Well, the rural idyll which was the beautiful hovel in the campo of Bayacas, situated on a mountainside with only a couple of donkeys as neighbours so intoxicated me, that I didn’t at first notice I was being bitten alive by creatures, ( fleas? bed bugs?) And even the cicadas drowned out the sound of the creatures eating away at the wooden beams above my head.. The beam-eating creatures became so loud that I wished I’d brought ear plugs..I could positively hear them chewing and crunching their way slowly through the wood..Funny sort of life that…at least you don’t need a calendar…I would ponder the existence of a creature whose sole purpose is to chomp through wood day in, day out..
One night there was a thunder and lightening storm and i ran outside arms wide to receive the magic. Never do I feel that sense of freedom and aliveness as I do in these mountains.
I am now here, near friends in a clean house in the wilds of the (currently) dry river bed..The heat makes me feel lazy, so I am not fighting it..
I plan to paint, read and walk a bit..